


An Unfamiliar Fire

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [63]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shipwrecked, Caretaking, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Thor awakens to find himself shipwrecked and in the care of a mysterious stranger.





	An Unfamiliar Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Winter and Ships or nautical themes; desert islands and buried treasure. Prompts from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator) and this [one](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/prompts).

Thor was, for better or worse, a practical man. He was interested in what he could see with his own eyes and touch with his own hands and hear with his very own ears; the ephemeral, the possibility of life beyond the material world, was to him so unimportant as to attract none of his everyday thoughts. And magic? Well. It was not even worth mentioning in his presence, as his crew quickly found out.

He didn’t attribute strange waves or odd colors in the sky to witches or mages, and if any aboard his ship did in his general proximity, the lucky ones were laughed at. The unlucky ones, if he was really in a mood, had been known to be tossed overboard--and hauled straight out of the sea after, usually by Thor himself, but still, the lesson was clear: no matter how odd the phenomena they encountered, here at the borders of the known world, there was always a rational explanation to be had, if they weren’t quite sure what that was yet. Magic, by contrast, was never the answer.

So perhaps it was fortunate that none of Thor’s crew--indeed, no other human soul--was around when he woke before an unfamiliar fire, his head cradled on a pillow of white, fragrant flowers, lost in a sea made not of water but of lush greenery and warm, solid earth.

“Oh, good,” a voice said. “You’ve stopped sleeping. I was beginning to wonder if you ever would.”

Thor sat up and a pain, oh god, the worst pain, shot through the side of his head. He clutched it, squeezed shut his eyes.

“Do you hurt?” A soft press on his shoulder. “It was difficult to tell while your eyes were closed. What hurts is here, in your head?”

The pounding of his blood was so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. “Yes.”

A slim, cool palm found his forehead. “You will tell me when it ends.”

Thor breathed in a staggered breath, a second, but the third--oh, the third, it was glorious. The pain was blessedly, suddenly gone.

He didn’t realize he was weeping until the stranger’s fingers slipped to his cheeks and wound themselves through the small rain. “Has it ended?”

“It has.”

“Good.” The stranger’s thumb turned over his cheek. “I am sorry that it took so long, but I am still learning you. It will be thus for a time.” 

The voice was low and calm, a scrim that barely concealed the stranger’s apparent delight. His voice reminded Thor of the sound of the sea when the tides change, when they were close enough to land to hear, and it was only then that Thor realized he hadn’t yet opened his eyes.

So he did.

“Careful,” the stranger said, the instant before his lids lifted--and how he knew what Thor was about to do, Thor could not fathom. “You have dwelt in darkness for a long time and here there is a great deal of light. I do not wish for you to be blinded.”

It was a warning Thor didn’t understand--darkness? Why, not half an hour ago, he’d fallen asleep in his cabin, the dull winter light of the moon streaming through the porthole to keep him company. And though the days were short now, and often brutally cold, there had not been a lack of sunshine for at least a fortnight.

Still, he heeded the stranger’s warning and opened his eyes slowly, as if his gaze itself were a reluctant dawn, and the first thing he saw that he could understand was the stranger himself.

He was like no man Thor had ever seen before, or woman, either; he was far, far lovelier. His long, black hair fell in waves about his shoulders, loose save for the occasional slim braid, and yet somehow, there were flowers in his hair, pink and gold and startling white. Something about him seemed to shimmer, as if he himself were a star, and yet he was undeniably a creature of the earth, for about him was strung the living green, beautiful broad leaves and flowering vines that were unfamiliar to Thor. But then, so much about this strange new world he and his crew had been sent to explore often was. Together, the leaves and vines formed a sort of fabric, one that hung from the stranger’s thin shoulders and swam in soft waves to his feet. He had the look of the wild about him, the untamed, and yet his hand on Thor’s face was so gentle, his eyes so iridescent, that Thor found he could not be afraid.

“Who are you?” he said.

The stranger smiled. “Your host.”

“Where am I?”

“In my home.”

“And where is--?”

“Thor,” the stranger said softly. “You are safe. You are fortunate to have found me.”

“I wasn't looking for you. How could I have been? I don't even know who you are."

“Don't you?” The stranger lifted his hand away and stood up straight, his mouth still curved in a smile. “Well, then. You are lucky, Odinson, as well as beautiful. A rare combination in need.”

“How is it I am lucky?” It made Thor feel as a child, peppering this man with so many questions, but he could see no way around it. It was clear that there was much about his present circumstance he did not understand.

The stranger studied him for a moment. “Your ship,” he said. “It crashed not far from here, somewhere in the sea. I found you on my shore, its only survivor. Hence I suspect that fortune smiles upon you. For what reason, though, I do not know.”

Thor felt a cold rush of fear, the memory of the icy waters, and for a moment, he could hear his crew again, screaming, and then the worst of all: silent.

“Where am I?” he asked again. This time, the words trembled.

The stranger’s face fluttered, his self-possession at last shaken. “My dear,” he said, “know this: you are safe from harm. No ill will come to you here. For you are under my protection and this idyll is my home and no one, even the fiercest forces of Fate, would dare touch what is mine.” He met Thor’s eyes. “I am Loki, keeper of the infinite, and you, Thor Odinson, now belong to me.”


End file.
